


The City Finally Sleeps

by rebeccaharper1



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 11:00:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6049150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebeccaharper1/pseuds/rebeccaharper1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes tries to reflect on his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The City Finally Sleeps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pastel_Teacups](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Teacups/gifts).



James... His name was James Buchanan Barnes, and he didn't belong here. Whether or not the world had forgiven him for all the damage he had been brought to the present to inflict, he could never forgive himself. He had been plucked from the past to be thrust unmercifully into the future, sent by Hydra to make evil his mistress and be a vital asset in wreaking havoc.  
It had been a mere few months since he had departed from Hydra, and, since then, he remained under the watchful eye of Shield and, most importantly, Steve Rogers. Once, Steve had explained, they were closer than his present self would care to be with anyone, but he's been changed. He's often been told stories of his own acts of heroism, his compassion and charm. They had belonged to a different James Barnes, but that form of himself had long since died. Hydra had extracted the goodness from him. The memories of his own goodness, the feeling of benevolence had to be rediscovered, and he would have to find within him the lost acts of heroism that made him worth saving, but also courageous enough to prove his candidacy for the role of the Winter soldier.  
That benevolence and grace... It belonged to someone he was never able to be- someone he would never be again.  
Lying in bed now, he stares at the ceiling fan as it oscillates slowly, trying to lose himself to the hypnosis, but it's no use. Every night, he struggles with the same issues of self-loathing, guilt, and hopelessness. Tonight is no different. At least, here alone in Steve's bed, he felt like less of an animal than when he spent his nights alone in the facilities of Shield. In his room there, not even a ceiling fan hung over him. Everything was strictly business- there was no room for comfort.  
He sighs, and pushes himself up into a sitting position. His hair was formed into knots, shirt askew on his shoulders, one sock was lost to the bed sheets. In the corner, he sees a shadow that belongs to Steve Rogers. He groans, running his hand down the side of his face.  
"You're Bucky," Steve whispers."You remember that?"  
"Yeah, I do."  
Steve would often remind James of his former nickname in attempts to revive memories of their past together. It never worked.  
James didn't bother asking why Steve was in his room, because he knew that, occasionally, Steve came to look after him in case he woke up with night terrors.  
"Steve," Bucky whispers, "I don't belong here."  
"You say that almost every night," Steve tells him.  
The city outside his window is so eerily silent that James can hear the fan rotate, can hear Steve's shaky breaths, can hear his heartbeat.  
The city finally sleeps, James thinks to himself. Finally.  
"You don't understand, Steve. You're good and courageous- you forgave me after all I did. Normal people don't do that. Not after everything..."  
"Because it wasn't you," Steve mutters softly, offering him a slight smile barely visible in the dim light. "You were reprogrammed-"  
"You called me your friend," James replies. "After I tried to kill you."  
"We used to be different, Bucky. Both of us. We used to be close, we used to confide in each other. You were the best friend anyone could ask for. I loved you. Of course I'm going to call you my friend, the past doesn't just vanish like that."  
James didn't know how to feel about his final statement. In his case, everything had vanished- the memories of their close-knit past was nothing to him, just as distant in his mind as the goodness he often searched for within himself.  
Wiped clean of his compassion.  
Every night, he was plagued with feelings of remorse, regret. Just because his goodness had vanished.  
Everything.  
"I used to have a second arm, right?" James tries to joke, but the words don't come out right, and they sound hateful.  
"Look, Bucky," Steve whispers again, crossing the distance between them and crawling beside his former friend. "I know that nothing is going to be the same. I'm never going to be the person I was when we knew each other. I'm always going to be Captain America, and I made that choice myself. I didn't have to go through with it, but I chose to, because I thought it would make me a better person. In a way... I suppose it did. But you didn't get the choice to shape your own future- you were forced to be this way."  
Steve sits with his side almost pressed against James. He slowly brings his fingertips up to brush away Bucky's hair from his forehead in an act of love and admiration for the man who he once used to be.  
"You're never going to truly understand how great of an influence you were to me- how much you affected me. You're never going to remember how kind you were or how charismatic, but I will. And as much as I'd like to help you understand again and help you remember, I know that we'll never be able to have that back. I will always care about you, Bucky, I will always love you. And for now, we need to use that to our advantage. I want to help... I want to help."  
Steve forces a smile through the pain of his own loss, and he runs his hand through James' hair, shuffling even closer to the man and pressing his lips to his forehead sweetly. James could swear to feeling a small, cold tear fall onto his skin, but he would never admit to witnessing such an act of intimacy.  
"Steve," James whispers.  
"Yeah?"  
"You never answered my question."  
Steve's blond eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What question?"  
"Did I have a second arm?"


End file.
